// photo diary
// photo diary
july 8
once upon of a time, somewhere in countryside vietnam, i dreamed of an eternal summer in california
ten years later, california is now home, and my heart, an eternal summer
april 30
In April, I visited Berlin. Once again, I’m reminded that romanticizing a European city runs deep in my blood.
Oh, Berlin! The people are so beautifully weird, free, and soulful! It is also surprisingly quiet for a big city. I spent so much time there just breathing in the slowness of life (well, slow compared to NYC). Three weeks of exploring, and I barely scratched the surface of this eclectic city. Hope to be back soon!
april 8—officially moved out of NYC today :(
One of my fondest memories is when I moved to my first NYC apartment, just steps from one of the oldest theaters in America. Every afternoon, when the sun hit the theater’s brick walls at the perfect angle, the view was so breathtakingly beautiful that I’d look out my window and wonder how I got here.
One day, I hope I’ll get to tell my future children the story of how I decided to move here after watching a movie about New York and having a crush on the main actor. Somehow, through a series of coincidences, I ended up falling in love with someone who had the same name as him, and later worked with people from that very same cast.
Life works in mysterious ways.
march 8
I returned from my road trip to the Navajo Nation yesterday. I drove through four different states, each a king or queen of the wild, wild west. I try to take at least two or three solo road trips like this every year.
As I get older, I’ve realized that I travel to be alone—completely and utterly alone. It almost doesn’t matter when and where: New Year’s Day at 9 AM, deep in the snow high atop Vernal Fall, or midnight, driving into Navajo Nation, cruising down Highway 59. The point is, I seek places where I am the only human being within a 20-mile radius. Just me, myself, and I. What a freeing experience it is to not be perceived.
In these moments, I can hear the passage of time. With no one else around, my mind no longer needs to fill itself with compulsory, useless thoughts. When I’m alone, I quickly realize how every thought is utter nonsense. The absurdity of an ego-generated existence becomes clear, and I need to be reminded of that. I need to feel that many times a year. I can’t keep playing this game of life if I don’t.
jan 2
If there’s one thing I’m emotionally dependent on, it’s solitude in nature. Every time I look at a big granite wall, I still feel so deeply at home. Every time I sit by the ocean, I still let the sound of water soothe my yearning heart. And when I watch the sunset, especially those California sunsets, I’m reminded that grieving is the work of a lifetime.